Fortune, Glory and Allergy Pills
by The Creeping Spleen
Summary: A short tale of Daniel Jackson's childhood. My first effort here, so please be gentle with me.


"Fortune, Glory and Allergy Pills"

A story of Daniel Jackson's childhood.

New York Museum of Art – 1971.

"Mel?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"Where's Daniel?

"Hmm?"

"Daniel – our son - remember? Seven years old? Sandy brown hair? Big blue puppy dog eyes? About yay tall?" Dr. Claire Jackson held up a hand to indicate the height of her errant offspring.

Her husband, Dr. Melburn Jackson, glanced up from his study of a display of artifacts dedicated to the ancient Egyptian deity Apophis, looked around, "Well – he _was_ right over there." he gestured to similar display of Egyptian artifacts dedicated to the sun god Ra on the opposite side of the room.

Claire sighed, "Well, you know what he's like for wandering off on his own..."

"Mmmph." Melburn grunted, "Obviously he takes after Nick..."

"Hey!" Claire gave her husband a light punch on the arm, "You leave my dad out of this. You're just miffed because he didn't invite you onto his dig in Belize."

"No I'm not..." Melburn muttered to himself, petulantly.

She bit back a smile, sometimes she wondered who was the bigger child – her husband or their son.

"Come on, let's go find him before he breaks something..."

And find him they did – after a quick conversation with a helpful museum security guard, and the guard consulting with his colleagues via walkie-talkie.

Daniel Melburn Jackson, aged 7 and a bit, was sitting on the floor of a small lecture hall next to a young dark haired girl of about his own age. Both were enraptured by the wonderful stories they were being told.

Their storyteller was an elderly man of perhaps 70 or so, with silvery gray hair, his right eye covered by a black patch, and with a slightly off-kilter bow tie knotted at his throat. He was quite spry looking for his age, and he animated his tale with hand gestures and changes of voice to represent different characters. A somewhat battered looking fedora lay on the table behind him, along with a cane, a briefcase, and a rumpled tweed jacket slung carelessly over the back of a chair.

Melburn and Claire hovered in the doorway, seeing their son was safe, well, and by the looks of things having a good time, they didn't feel right interrupting. That he'd apparently made a new friend – the little girl – was an added bonus. After a couple of minutes, they silently took seats at the back of the hall – next to another couple, presumably the girl's parents

The old man concluded his story - "So then my dad says to Sallah, _That's his name. Henry Jones Junior. We named the dog Indiana!_ An' off we rode into the sunset..."

Daniel and his young friend sat open mouthed for several moments. Then - "Wow..." from he, and a "Gosh..." from her.

The storyteller chuckled indulgently, "Nice to know someone still appreciates an old man's war stories." He looked up at the back of the lecture hall. "Well kids, it looks like your folks have come lookin' for ya."

Melburn, Claire, and the girl's parents made their way to the front of the hall to collect their wayward children.

"I hope you folks didn't mind me borrowing your kids for a little while." said the old man. He stood, shrugged his way back into his jacket, crammed the fedora back onto his head.

"Not at all." replied the girl's mother, in what could only be described as a cut glass English accent, "If Lara had a good time, then that's alright." she turned to her daughter, "Are you going to say goodbye to your new friends, darling?"

"Yes mummy." said the girl, Lara, in an equally upper crust English accent, "Goodbye Daniel, it's been a pleasure to meet you. Goodbye Henry, I do hope we meet again."

Formally, she shook Daniel's hand, then that of the old storyteller. Impulsively, she gave the old man a hug around the neck, and a peck on the cheek.

Lara giggled, and with an impish grin on her face and a devilish gleam in her eye, she grabbed Daniel and planted a smacker right on his lips – "I like you. You're cute..." she stated, then ran off to join her parents.

Young Daniel stood dumbfounded. This was the first time a girl – other than his mother, who didn't really count because she was, well, _Mom_ – had kissed him.

Melburn chuckled at his son's discomfiture, "C'mon lover boy. Time to go home."

"Huh? Oh... Okay, dad." he turned and waved at the old man, "G'bye Henry. Thanks for the stories."

Henry waved back, "So long kid. Remember what I told you?"

"Uh-huh." replied Daniel, "Fortune and glory," he sneezed, "And allergy pills..."


End file.
